


Season of the Shit

by emissaryofrainbows



Category: Original Work
Genre: ABDL, Belly Kink, Burping, Diaper Disposal, Diapers, Digestion, F/M, Fantasy, Farting, Fatal Vore, Fetish, Gross, Oral Vore, Other, Same size vore, Scat, Soiling, Vore, Witches, disposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryofrainbows/pseuds/emissaryofrainbows
Summary: An extra spooky Halloween story about a young man named Tiven finds himself captured by a witch named Ezma. The sorceress has quite the appetite, and a very unusual way of disposing of her prey.This story was done as a submission for the Ink and Quill group's Ink And Quill Writing Challenge #5 - "Halloween Spooks"This story is incredibly weird and gross. If you find the content objectionable and still read it you have nobody but yourself to blame.





	Season of the Shit

"Wake up," came a woman's voice, harsh and impatient. 

Tiven's mind was still hazy, but he was lucid enough to know that this wasn't his bedroom.

"Where am I?" he finally managed to stammer out of a dry, wheezing mouth. 

"That should be the least of your concerns," she continued. As Tiven's vision returned, he was greeted with the sharpening outline of a tall, pale woman whose mere presence was powerful and unsettling. Her name was Ezma. She was a witch, and she was hungry.

In terms of witchiness all she was missing was the hat. She was a gorgeous woman instead of a hideous old crone, but that certainly wasn't unheard of when it came to female practitioners of the dark arts. Her features were sharp and well-defined, with a distinctive dark beauty mark on her otherwise pale cheek. Her hair was white, neat, and fell to just below her shoulders. In any other circumstance, she was the sort of woman that Tiven would find himself instantly infatuated with.

She had almost the textbook example of an hourglass figure, which her clingy black dress did a good job of hugging and highlighting. That wasn't all that the skintight witch's grown outlined though. There was a distinct bulge protruding from her waist, as though she were wearing an extremely bulky undergarment. Further examination would reveal that this was exactly the case, and furthermore that it was unmistakably a diaper which lurked beneath her sultry dress. If the distinct bulge it created in the fabric wasn't enough evidence, the distinctive crinkle she produced as she swayed her hips deliberately with each step was more than enough to confirm those suspicions. 

There still remained the question of why the witch would wear a piece of clothing so...well, to call it unusual would be a drastic understatement. Tiven had some suspicions about how her diaper was to be used, ones that he dared not dwell on for the terrifying implications they had on their potential fate. He didn't know much about witches, but he knew enough to know that his captor was certainly one, and the sorts of things they tended to do with their victims. With any luck, Tiven would be able to escape before he'd have to discover the padding's purpose.

That would be easier said than done however. Tiven was restrained in place, not by conventional ropes or chains which could conceivably be picked, cut, or broken. No, these bindings were magical in nature, and far beyond his ability to escape. Then again, regular rope would've probably been more than the scrawny blond could handle as well. Still, he struggled and writhed against his bindings all the same, a chilling preview of what he would find himself doing in an even more terrifying, restricting space in a matter of mere minutes.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to go wandering into the woods at night?" she said. Her tone was cruel and teasing, of course, but there was some indication that she might've been genuinely exasperated by his foolishness.

Tiven remained silent. Truthfully, if he hadn't needed to empty his bladder after a long night at the tavern, he would've never made the mistake of stumbling into the forest like that. His desperation and drunkenness had caused him to make a stupid decision, one that was seeming more and more like it could cost him his life.

The witch casually sauntered over to the bound peasant as though she had all the time in the world. And why wouldn't she act like she did? It wasn't like her prey was going anywhere, not when even his most viscous thrashing failed to make his magical bonds even budge. 

Once she got closer, she looked him up and down, tapping her cheek with her index finger as she hummed. 

"Hmmm..." she said. "Scrawny, I can't imagine you'll be very filling." She spoke past Tiven as though he wasn't in the room, or like he wasn't important enough to acknowledge.

Tiven wished that Ezma would go back to ignoring him after the woman stuck out her tongue and dragged it across the young man's face, starting at his forehead and traveling all the way down to his exposed collarbone, leaving behind a thin, shimmering trail of drool.

"Mm, but you don't taste half bad. Yes, I think you'll make for a decent meal."

"M-meal?" Tiven stammered. He had his suspicions, sure, but having them confirmed still left him chilled. Ezma didn't bother licking him again, and why would she? There would be plenty of time to savor his flavor as she devoured him, and his squirming, helpless body traveled down her throat and towards her roiling stomach.

Tiven let out a muffled yell that reverberated through Ezma's throat, but ultimately failed to reach the ear of anyone who could hope to help him. Tiven's inevitable fate chilled him to his core. He wasn't just to be made into this witch's meal; he would be reduced to a steaming, stinking pile sagging down the seat of her diaper as well. He couldn't have asked for a more humiliating end.

He tried to fight against the powerful esophageal muscles that brought him closer to packing the witch's padding with each passing second. Whether the witch's swallowing skills were magically enhanced, whether she had become adept at this after devouring countless prey before him, or if Tiven was simply a weakling, he was unable to slow down his steady descent much less stop it. His magical bonds had dissipated, as the witch's smothering, fleshy gullet was now all she needed to keep her pathetic prey held in place.

It wasn't just the fact that Ezma was eating Tiven that terrified him. No, it was the way she went about it. She didn't force him down with strong, greedy gulps, but a steady series of strong swallows, done so casually as to suggest that this was effortless to her, and more chillingly, that she had done this countless times before. Tiven was just a single meal among many, just as easily forgotten as the slab of salted pork he could just barely remember having eaten the previous night. It wouldn't be much longer until he was just a single soiled diaper among many as well...

Ezma's lips had reached his torso now, and the witch didn't seem to be slowing down. All Tiven could see was the darkness of the cruel woman's insides, so the rest of his senses became sharper to compensate. Unfortunately, this meant that he could feel the wetness of her throat and smell the acrid vapors wafting up from the stomach beneath him that much more acutely. 

Tiven kicked his legs furiously, though he knew it was futile. The reek of the witch's stomach grew with each passing second, until she finished him off with a final gulp. He went sliding into her stomach and landed in a pool of stinging acids with a splash. In here, every single breath was tainted with thick, humid smog, and his every movement served to remind him that his flesh was gradually softening. 

Tiven wasn't much of a warrior, and he understandably didn't have much hope left, but he still didn't intend to give up without a fight. He tried to push out of his mind all the other of Ezma victims who probably felt the same spark of bravery shortly before they were reduced to steaming witch waste in a drooping diaper. 

Ezma looked down at her own stomach, which had distended far past even her generous bust. The fabric of her dress still clung to her person sized gut, just as it had been designed to do. The witch had tailored her outfit to accommodate a swollen stomach or a soiled diaper, as she often found herself with both.

She lowered a hand to her stomach, and felt how both the fabric and the flesh beneath it were equally taut. She watched a small dome-shaped bulge emerge from her gut for a few seconds before vanishing, presumably from Tiven trying to strike at her stomach walls. She let out a meager belch and then sighed. If Tiven expected his struggles to accomplish anything other than giving the witch a bit of gas, he would be sorely disappointed. 

Her black clad over inflated beach ball of a gut bobbed in front of her, producing a bassy slosh with each step she took. Casually, she returned to the potion she'd been brewing before her victim had woken up, stirring her bubbling cauldron as though she didn't have a full sized person writhing within her swollen gut. 

She liked to avoid having her prey disturb her work as much as possible, which was one of the reasons for the diaper beneath her dress. It allowed her to digest her prey, devour, and then dispose of them without wasting any time on bathroom breaks. 

And so Ezma continued, her bulging gut and her glowing cauldron releasing bubbling burbles in unison. All the while Tiven writhed about in her gut, but again the most his struggles and screams resulted in was the occasional hiccup. Ezma had done this so many times that the ceaseless motion of her stomach beneath her dress wasn't enough to distract her, and she remained laser-focused on her brew, though still keenly aware that Tiven's form was rapidly degrading. 

Indeed, the human was having trouble within the hostile environment. Each breath was heavy and harsh against his nostrils, and his struggles became weaker as his flesh became less solid.

Ezma watched her stomach soften and shrink from the outside, knowing it wouldn't be long before her victim met his crinkly final destination. 

The witch continued to attend to her brew, as the last remnants of Tiven continued to dwindle inside of her gut. What wasn't absorbed into her body made its way towards her bowels in the form of densely packed waste.

\----

Ezma wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed before Tiven's remains started yearning to make their reappearance. The witch did what she always did, and simply idly allowed nature to take its course. Something that wanted so desperately to come out of her as evidence by the immense pressure within her bowels wouldn't require much intervention on her part to release. 

Some initial pressure was released by a loud, booming fart, the sound made muffled and plasticy by the thick padding it billowed against. This indicated that Tiven was ready to come out, and gave an indication of the smell she could expect to be filling her chamber in a matter of minutes. All she would need to do was wait.

Still, she found herself remarking "Ugh, you're a lot bigger than I expected you'd be..." as a particularly particularly stubborn log of bone-infused turd plopped right into the seat of her diapers. The back of her dress distended outwards, as the garment sagged under the weight of her victim's stinking remains. Still, she remained attentive to her potion, stirring the pot as her asshole casually pushed more loads of brown, stinking former human into her padding.

"You smell as bad as I thought you would, though," the sorceress added, wrinkling her nose in revulsion at the stench that wafted up from the bulging padding. Dense logs of bone and waste continued to flow at a consistent rate, causing the lumpy bulge underneath her dress to steadily expand.

And expand it did. After only about thirty seconds of relatively effortless squeezing, the lump in Ezma's diaper had expanded from the size of an orange to that of a ripe grapefruit, and there was still plenty of digested Tiven to go.

As the logs grew thicker, they required a bit more of an active effort on Ezma's part to expel, although not enough to distract her from her potion work. That remained her main focus, stirring her boiling pot as her diaper steadily expanded underneath her.

The logs went from an inch or two in diameter to about as thick as Ezma's own forearm. What were once shattered fragments of bone were now large unbroken chunks of her former prey, intact to the point where one could tell which part of the poor human's body they had come from.

Her drooping diaper was now as big as an overgrown watermelon, and about as overstuffed with churned-up Tiven as her stomach had been mere minutes ago.

Bones protruding at odd angles from beneath her tight dress, creating morbid bulges in her padding and the black fabric that covered it that could be recognized as the young man's shin or skull by their shape. A few of the bones from his extremities could be seen jutting out from her waistband, half submerged in the steaming mire of filth that settled in the seat of her diaper below. With a free hand she casually reached behind herself to push the protruding bones back in so her padding could more neatly contain them. She had a veritable graveyard beneath her clingy dress now, for all the bones and filth contained in the weighty, saggy thing wrapped around her waist. Even her best efforts to poke and prod the load in her diaper into a manageable form still left her with a boulder-shaped bulge with bones jutting out asymmetrically. 

Her load felt heavy, almost as heavy as the boy's body had been. Her free hand groped against her bulging backside confirmed that her load was indeed as substantial as it felt. She had eaten countless victims over her long life, but it had been a while since one of them resulted in a diaper filled this thoroughly.

Eventually the flow of shit finally tapered off into a few sputtering farts before Ezma's ass finally shut completely. She was left with a bulge in the shit-sack around her waist that was just a bit smaller than Tiven himself had been. The stretched black fabric of her dress outlined every last lump, bulge, and bone protrusion of her diaper. Ezma hadn't stopped attending to her potion all the while, and it was finally time to add the final ingredient. 

Using her magic she conjured several disembodied hands from shimmering purple energy. These hands floated underneath her dress. Two of them deftly undid the tape of her overburdened diaper, filled with short of one hundred pounds of pure human waste. A third, fourth, and fifth cupped themselves underneath the swollen garment after it was detached from Ezma's waist, carrying it out from underneath her skirt and depositing it into the witch's open hand, carefully as to not spill any of its contents. Next, a pair ventured underneath her dress once again, wiping clean all the waste that had accumulated around her naked crotch with a damp rag. Finally, a lone hand fitted her with a fresh, clean diaper for her next prey to fill. 

"And now, the final ingredient: the essence of a human," she said, hoisting the bone and shit filled sack above her cauldron, so heavy that she was forced to use both hands. Then, she dropped it into the bubbling mixture, causing the liquid to rise to the brim of the cauldron and intensifying the heat that already radiated so powerfully from it. A few more steady stirs and her brew was finally complete. The bubbling finally settled, and the potion turned a bright, glowing shade of green. 

With a fresh, crisp diaper bulging beneath her skirt, Ezma headed towards her chambers to retire. She had managed to squeeze in a finished potion and a filling meal in the same day; she had earned herself a peaceful sleep.

Tomorrow she would make use of the potion she'd created. Her nail polish wasn't going to remove itself.


End file.
